


when i'm alone, can i dream of  you?

by convalessence



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Hannah and Barbara are also mentioned bc it's obligatory, Oooo she pining, References to the Cupid Bee Incident and Samhain Festival, Relationship Study, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25541098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convalessence/pseuds/convalessence
Summary: Diana takes a moment to reflect.
Relationships: Diana Cavendish/Atsuko "Akko" Kagari
Comments: 8
Kudos: 112





	when i'm alone, can i dream of  you?

**Author's Note:**

> this is old but i remembered i love these lesbisbnians

The only sound in the room was the occasional clink of teacup on saucer as Diana Cavendish sat alone. Really, a more accurate word would be _brooded_ , but that was a piece of vocabulary unfit to describe any action of a member of the Cavendish family. She sipped at her tea, an English blend favored by her family for generations, and crossed her legs daintily at the ankles as she waited for her roommates to come back. Hannah and Barbara were fond of the Luna Nova gardens near the north campus, but fonder still of Diana’s company. Today, though, she prayed that they would spend longer by the hydrangeas. She had thinking to do.

Atsuko Kagari had been on her mind far longer than was appropriate. 

Did she realize how infuriating she was? Her naive charm and open hero-worship of Shiny Chariot, of all witches, made Diana’s blood boil. How could she get away with acting like a child when everyone else was expecting to grow up? Shiny Chariot was a fad of the past. A thing for children. Diana’s eyes flickered towards the floor. 

Akko was, true to appearances, lacking in any sort of promising magical ability, and yet she didn’t have the sense to just drop out. Maybe that was what annoyed her. Or that Akko, who was loud and abrasive and horribly naive and couldn’t even ride a broom, was captivating and open and so honest that you couldn’t help but like her. Even when Diana was cleaning up her messes, she couldn’t be mad at her.

It was absolutely maddening.

She raised her cup to her lips and took a long sip, wrinkling her nose at the cool liquid that met her tongue. 

Maybe it was the fact that Akko had made her fall in love with her at Andrew Hanbridge’s party. It was an accident, of course - none of them had known that the cupid bee was loose, much less that it would sting Diana, even lesser that she would be right in front of Akko, but it was quite reasonable that perhaps Diana harbored some sort of resentment for the embarrassing incident. It wasn’t that she was ashamed that she had become infatuated with a girl. It was that it was _Akko_ , and that it was _in public_. She prided herself on her Cavendish composure, and in mere moments, she had become a lovesick fool for every Hanbridge connection to see. It wasn’t Akko’s fault by any means. Or Diana’s. Or anybody’s. But Akko had seen a side of Diana that nobody had - not Hannah, not Barbara, and certainly not Andrew. 

And when the bee had been disposed of, Diana had been horrified to realize that the burning in her chest had not dissipated.

There were obviously some long-lasting effects of the venom, she had concluded, and since then, her research had been directed towards cupid bees and any possible long-term effects. Her texts had failed to mention any. In fact, they had explicitly stated that if the bee was killed, all feelings inspired by it would be neutralized. 

They had to be wrong. 

She kept looking, reading, even stooping so low as to research on the internet, but everything gave her the same information. Eventually, she was forced to come to the conclusion that the bee’s effects were, indeed, out of her system. The tightness in her chest and fluttering in her stomach when she caught sight of Akko in the halls was entirely uninfluenced by magic. 

Her conclusion had been solidified at the Samhain Festival when Akko had not only thrilled the audience by turning sacred sacrificial duties into a _show_ , of all things, but revived the third Word of Arcturus and released Vajarois the Grieving from her curse. Diana hadn’t even known about the curse, and yet Akko had figured out how to free her from eternal suffering. The title of “Moonlit Witch” felt wrong in her hands. She had accepted it, though - that was what was expected of her, the pride of Luna Nova, the distinguished Diana Cavendish. 

Diana wondered what might have happened if she had insisted they grant the title to Akko. 

Even though Diana was rude to her, even though she constantly one-upped her, Akko had still come to bring her home. She had called her a rival, sure, but the point was that she had come, and saved her, and brought her back like it was nothing. That infuriated her. How dare Akko be the bigger person and make Diana look bad? 

Perhaps her frustration lay with the indignity of it all. It was childish, and Akko was childish, and she had more important things to do than stay up all night feeling her heart flutter as she looked out the window, wondering what Akko was doing that moment. Which bed did she sleep in? What kind of pajamas did she sleep in? Did she toss and turn, or sleep peacefully until dawn? 

Did she dream of her the way Diana did? 

She swirled her tea in her cup absentmindedly. It was cold by now, ruined for sure, but Diana couldn’t bring herself to get up and dispose of it. Uncharacteristically lazy of her. She wondered if Akko’s disregard for timeliness was rubbing off on her.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, fast and excited. Diana allowed herself a smile. Maybe it was Akko, late for something, or eager to bother some poor magical creature on campus. Maybe it was Hannah and Barbara, coming back from the gardens; they pretended to be cool and collected, but Diana knew how enthusiastic they could get when they thought no one else was around. It would have to be a pretty spectacular bloom for them to run, though - she could hear them pestering her to “Come look, Diana, look!” “I bet it’s not as good as the flowers at your estate!” 

Maybe, when no one else was around, it was okay for Diana to feel things, too. She laid back against the sofa and imagined brown hair splayed out next to her, soft robes touching her exposed knee, the electric brush she anticipated she would feel if their hands touched. 

When she was alone, she could allow herself this much.


End file.
